


Cuddling Is for Kittens

by jojothecr



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M, Written in 2010
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-20
Updated: 2011-06-20
Packaged: 2017-10-20 14:37:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jojothecr/pseuds/jojothecr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen doesn't cuddle. It's just <em>not</em> his style...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cuddling Is for Kittens

Jensen opened his eyes to a purple-blue shade somewhere between night and morning. It wasn’t quite a starry midnight, but neither a dawn yet.

He didn’t wake up because he was cold. He was snatched from his sleep because he was freezing! The chill was licking at his toes, slipping like fingers of white frost beneath the legs of his sweatpants and up his thighs, making his spine vibrate with shivers. His muscles were taut, trembling and aching as he was curled in a tight ball, trying to accumulate the little remains of warmth he had left, and keep them from escaping.

Thirty minutes, and a long chain of curses, later, Jensen sat up and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders. Searching blindly his nearest surroundings, he hoped to find a few, or at least one more piece of clothing. There was a sweatshirt hanging over the armrest of his chair, big and fluffy, and definitely Jared’s then, but it was just as cold as Jensen was.

 _Everything_ was. Because the radiator was still broken, the repairman just as useful as ever, when he had been too busy to even come, and outside there was a freaking Canadian winter howling behind the windows.

Teeth chattering, Jensen stood in the middle of his bedroom, angry, and pottering in a poor attempt to keep his bare feet from freezing onto the carpet.

Eventually, with a deep frown etched in between his eyebrows and a heavy, troubled sigh, he figured there was only one thing that could help. Just one, simple thing that would save him from freezing to death.

It was the last option he wanted to pick, though, in principle. Because it just wasn’t his style. Because just one day ago, sprawled on the couch with a book in his hands and Jared’s sleep-shagged hair unfolded on his knees, Jensen swore that he doesn’t do it.

But now he was tired, and shuddering, and the air around him was so cold he could see a cloudlet of vapour rising from his mouth with every breath he let out.

 

The door creaked slightly as he pushed it open; a streak of light from the spotlighting from the corridor falling across the carpet and two sound asleep dogs, grazing just the end of the bed and no further.

Jensen crept in like a thief, guided by the faint moonlight and his memory, sidestepping long paws and even longer tails, and squeaky rubber toys, before he finally reached the bed. He dropped his blanket, still cold and useless, to the floor and knelt down. The mattress dipped beneath his weight lightly, making Jared’s body roll towards the hollow and causing him to protest feebly in his sleep.

Jensen lifted the covers and nearly gasped in shock at the sight of Jared sleeping in a grey T-shirt and black boxers. _Only_. Wearing sweatpants, T-shirt, shirt and a sweatshirt, Jensen felt suddenly like a polar explorer off-cast in Hawaii. He shook his head and slid in, crawling towards the warmth that was Jared.

He could hear Jared’s smile, the sound of amusement tugging at the corners of his mouth, as Jared scooted over and a pair of strong arms found Jensen, pulling him in. “I thought you didn’t cuddle,” he said.

“Shut up,” Jensen hissed, feeling the shiver rocketing through his body finally subside slowly. “Just shut up.”

“Uh-uh.”

“Beside I’m totally not cuddlin’,” Jensen objected vehemently. “I’m just stealin’ warmth.”

He nudged his thigh in between Jared’s, seeking the proximity and heat pouring off him, his shin slithering along Jared’s, his foot brushing Jared’s; bare and burning.

Jared jerked at the contact and yelped, trying to get away from the ice berg that clung to him only the more tightly.

“Damn. Shit. Jensen, you’re fucking _freezing_!” he complained.

“Really?” Jensen murmured; his eyes tired and heavy, drifting close. “Didn’t even notice.”

Jared was warm, so warm Jensen might have been experiencing some kind of a thermal shock. Because Jared’s body suddenly felt more comfortable than any bed Jensen had ever rested on, and his firm chest, raising and falling rhythmically under Jensen’s head, like the best pillow.

Smiling in despite his persuasion, Jensen propped himself up on his elbow, as far as he could in Jared’s tight embrace, and just enough so he could place a soft kiss somewhere where he guessed should be Jared’s mouth. He met the swell of Jared’s lower lip and a victorious grin that he, for once, didn’t feel like wiping out.

“You are _so_ cuddling,” Jared chuckled into the darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> Previously posted here: http://jojothecr.livejournal.com/282618.html#cutid1


End file.
